


Crimson Ink

by Shadowcat221b



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Dark, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, i guess, mob!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat221b/pseuds/Shadowcat221b
Summary: Jensen had had a perfectly good day until he was supposed to put a bullet through some kid´s brain because his father thought it would be fitting for his son to kill the son of his life long enemy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea in my head for a while now, let me know what you think.  
> Love,  
> the shadowcat

Jensen Ackles, son of Alan Ackles, head of the Irish mob in Detroit, sighed.  
His father´s henchmen had managed to get their hands on a kid of Gerald Padalecki, Polish mob. Jensen was supposed to off the kid now, symbolic value and all.  
It had been a perfectly good day, he had been reading an interesting book while some bimbo sucked his cock, lazying around on his couch and now he had to get dressed and drive over to one of the warehouses his father owned, just to put a bullet through some kid´s brain.

As he walked into the warehouse his eyes immediately fell on the kneeling figure on the floor. Marcus and Ian stood on both sides of the young man who had his arms restrained behind his back.

Padalecki´s face was a little bloody from a gash on his temple, but not swollen. He was breathing fast and shallow, probably because Marcus had punched him so he stayed down.  
If Jensen hadn´t been longing to get back to his couch he would have loved to have a little fun carving him up before ending him.

 He lifted his gun, finger caressing the trigger, aiming right at Padalecki´s forehead.

What he didn´t expect was for Padalecki to lift his head, eyes bright and hard, strong.  
»Do it.«

The words were spoken as a challenge, eyes never leaving Jensen´s.

With a sigh Jensen adjusted his aim. His expression contorted with mock sympathy: »I´m sorry.«

The change in Padalecki´s eyes was minute, but Jensen spotted it nonetheless. There was a crack in his facade, the front of strength faltering. Maybe Jensen would have some fun after all.

»What is it?«, he couldn´t keep the selfrighteous smirk out of his voice.

With the blink of an eye Padalecki schooled his expression again, face hardening. »Pull the trigger.«

Jensen cocked his head. »Nah.«

He put the gun back into his holster, smiling at the goons. Something irked him, but he couldn´t put his finger on it. A feeling scraching at the back of his mind. »Are my supplies still here?«

They nodded, Ian scurrying to get them.  
»Perfect. If you would leave us alone, come back in, let´s say, two hours and dispose of the body? I´m gonna have myself some quality time.«

Marcus handed Jensen a set of keys: »`Case you want to change his restraints, boss.« The same moment Ian came back, pushing a cart with Jensen´s _tools_. The whole time Jensen kept his eyes on Jared. Not that he was afraid that Jared might try to escape, even if he did he wouldn´t get far, Jensen could overpower him easily on his own. No, he was more focused on figuring out what to do with him, something creative to distract himself from the weird feeling in his gut.

»Oh.« He pretended that he had just remembered this crucial detail: »Cuff him to a chair would you?«

He watched as the goons wrestled Padalecki up and into a chair, cuffing his legs to the legs of the chair , his arms still behind his back.

»Thanks. See you in two hours.«

Jensen shugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. No need to have blood spatters on his favorite button down. He watched Padalecki´s eyes grow wide, could pratically see his sharp intake of breath. Oh this would be hilarious.

»Scared?«, the question was rethorical, but Padalecki answered him nonetheless.

»No.«

»Really?«, Jensen let his fingers ghost over the knives on the cart, eyes still on Padalecki.

»Your arm«, said the kid. As if that answered anything.

Jensen was still willing to play this game, even though it was starting to bore him. »What´s with it?«

»What does it say?« Padalecki flicked the hair out of his face with a shake of his head.

»Don´t worry you will be able to see it up close in a second, when I paint a masterpiece with your blood«, Jensen replied conversationally, settling on a slightly curved, slender blade. Padalecki didn´t say anything after that.

Jensen stepped up close to Padalecki, contemplating wether he should cut while he still wore the shirt or tear the shirt and cut then. He settled on the latter.

Carefully squatting before the bound man he took his shirt collar and cut into the cotton, then ripped the fabric apart.

The sight before him caught him off guard. Right below Padalecki´s right collarbone were words, in Jensen´s own rounded handwriting.

 

_I´m sorry._

Realisation dawned in Jensen´s mind. His eyes flitted down to his left arm.

 

_Do it._

 

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> R&R?  
> Thank you for reading :)  
> Love,  
> the shadowcat


End file.
